A Forgotten Love
by beexfeatheryduster
Summary: They had all tried to consign her to the mists of time and a history they would not care to remember, everyone whose lives she had touched. She could never fully be forgotten though and her legacy would live on. OC.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note: I know this is different from what I normally write, but I hope that you are going to like it. I can certainly tell that I will enjoy writing it. Reviews are welcome and please do tell me if you have any suggestions for the story, certain things can be tailored to your desires if you wish. Enjoy - Bee x**

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><p>It had been years since Lucius Malfoy had met his old friend under circumstances other than when it was required. After the transgressions that had occurred between them in their youth, Lucius had seen it fit to distance himself from Severus Snape and vice versa. Narcissa would have none of it though, and had continued to speak to Severus on the occasions that she could. Now, finally, after years of wishing it to be so, Narcissa had gotten her heart's desire and Severus was standing in the hallway of Malfoy Manor with the intention of meeting Lucius.<p>

Lucius descended the main staircase, his cane absent for once. It was a clever place to hide his wand when he was in public, and he did so love to get up everyone's noses with his blatant superiority. It was one of few games that were left for him to enjoy, especially now that the Dark Lord had risen once more.

"Ah Severus. A pleasure to see you once more, old friend." Lucius called out, his voice echoing in the grand and silent hallway. There was no need for him to speak particularly loudly as the acoustics of the hallway were rather good if he did say so himself.

"Lucius. I am here as requested by Narcissa, I am here only for Narcissa." Severus said. Lucius would have been wounded if he had not already known and accepted this. After all, Severus had not been the only one to place the distance between them.

"You remain as charming as ever Severus." Lucius turned his head slightly as he heard Narcissa's voice. She came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder for support. The action was not an obvious show of support, but both Lucius and Narcissa knew the intention behind it. That was all that mattered to the both of them. Severus, as sharp as ever, watched their interaction closely, like a hawk.

"Only for you Narcissa." Severus replied genially. Narcissa offered him her best polite smile as she gestured with her free hand in the direction of the Parlour. Severus inclined his head in their direction and headed towards the room.

"I do not know if I can do this Narcissa. There are too many wounds." Lucius confessed, admitting his weakness in a very rare moment. There were few times when anyone would find the Lucius Malfoy admitting that he felt pain. He did though, and he wasn't going to hide it, not from his wife. Female intuition, or simply plentiful knowledge about Lucius, enabled her to see his pain where others could not. Even Draco was oblivious, and that was how Lucius felt it should stay.

"You must try to Lucius. With the Dark Lord back, you and Severus need to move past this. He needs to know, and so does she." Narcissa said, gently stroking her husband's cheek. She felt great love and affection for him, as he did for her, although neither would show it in public. They all had their parts to play, and to them all the world really was a stage, and they were just players.

"What if he doesn't want to hear it Cissa?" Lucius asked, using his affectionate name for her as he smoothed her brilliant blonde hair back from her beautiful place. She had the looks of a Queen, his Queen.

"It isn't a matter of want Lucius, it's need." Narcissa replied softly, gently steering her husband in the direction of the parlour. They crossed the threshold together and Narcissa let go. Lucius paused and looked to her questioningly.

"I am afraid I have urgent matters to attend to Severus. I hope that you will inform me when you desire to leave." Narcissa said sweetly, looking to Severus. The dark haired man in question had seated himself in one of the armchairs by the fire, his outer robes shed and thrown over the back of the armchair.

"Of course Narcissa." He replied coolly, his gaze flickering between her and Lucius. A small smile graced her lips before she shut the parlour door, leaving Lucius and Severus alone once more.

"What did you bring me here for Lucius?" Severus asked, watching as the blonde haired man crossed to settle in the armchair opposite him. Comfort would be required for this particular conversation, and it seemed that they were going to get right down to the business of it. Severus had never been one to dance around an issue.

"To talk old friend. It would be her birthday today, if she were still here." Lucius said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. Severus stiffened in the armchair, gripping tightly onto the chair's thick arms, his knuckles whitening.

"If I had known that was the reason for your summons, I would not have come." Severus said tightly, his voice strained. He was trying to maintain his standard calm and control. It was an effective tool, shield and weapon, which he had perfected over the years. Lucius had to wonder if matters would have turned out differently if the tragedy had not happened.

"Have you forgiven her yet?" Lucius asked, his own voice constricted with the pain he felt at the mere mention of her. Even after the years since, he still felt the anguish as though it had occurred only yesterday.

"I never blamed her in the first Lucius. You should know that!" Severus exclaimed, his façade beginning to crack in front of the slightly older man. There were few things that could affect Severus so much, shake him so deeply, to his very core. She had always been one of those things, and she probably always would be.

"Then why did you remove yourself? Why did you never try to contact the girl?" Lucius asked, unable to keep the sharpness out of his tone, the edge of anger off his words. A great injustice had been done to the girl, and yet she had continued on. Lucius admired her resilience in the face of it all. Severus was silent for a few moments before he all but threw himself out of his chair. He began to pace up and down, Lucius watching his every step intently, waiting for him to speak again. Finally, Severus came to a stop.

"I could not bear to look into those eyes, and see her staring back at me." Severus hissed, his back to Lucius. The elder Malfoy's expression softened and he stood up, walking to stand behind Severus.

"She wants to know her father, and she has waited many years for it." Lucius said softly. Severus turned to look at his friend before sighing heavily.

"Then bring her here, for my heart wishes to know her for her, not who she is." Severus said, everything about him screaming that he was resigned to it. After so many years, right was going to be done, and the girl's life could be healed before the ruins became ash.

"Jeanne would be overjoyed." Lucius commented with a fond smile, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. The pain would always be there, for she had been the light of his life, for all of his life. He would not be alone in his pain though, for Severus had hurt and so had the girl.

"What is her name?" Severus questioned.

"Lyra. Lyra Eva."


	2. Class of 1974

**Auhtors Note: Hope you liked the preface, here's the first chapter for you, and we finally get to meet her. Bee x**

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><p>Jeanne was glad to have finally finished her exile, for as far as she was concerned it was exile, in France. Her education at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was complete and she was now free to return home. She had no idea why her fool of a mother had insisted on placing her so far away from her family. Perhaps she had wanted her to become a delicate and fragrant French flower. Well, if that was the case then she was sure going to get a shock when her daughter came home. Jeanne couldn't resist smirking at that one.<p>

"Jean, you have that look again." Jeanne shook her head and pulled herself from her thoughts, looking enquiringly at her best friend Appolina, or Polly as Jeanne had shortened it to. It had frustrated the girl to no end at first after she had clearly stated in a rather snobbish tone that her name was Appolina. It had taken a few years but, as they had both grown and matured, they had become the best of friends.

"What look?" Jeanne asked innocently, fluttering her eyelashes a little. She knew very well what look Polly was on about, but telling the other girl would ruin their fun.

Polly fixed her friend with a glare that actually increased her natural beauty. One would be forgiven for thinking that the two silvery blonde headed girls standing together were related. The other girls of the graduating class of 1974 shot reproachful looks at the pair. Not only were they beautiful, and they both knew it, but they had graduated top in their classes.

"You know well enough what look I am on about. What are you planning inside that cunning mind of yours?" Polly asked, genuinely interested. Her life had been filled with nothing but excitement since she had encountered and became friends with Jeanne.

"Ah, that would be telling." Jeanne said, tapping the side of her nose. Polly folded her arms across her chest and grumbled a little causing Jeanne to start laughing. Even though her time in France had left like exile and banishment, she had still enjoyed every minute that had been spent with the half veela. The night before they had made a pact to each other that, no matter what, they would always remain friends. Invitations to stay at their ancestral homes had been extended by both of them to the other, thereby leaving little left for them to do other than say goodbye for the time being.

"I guess this is it then Jean. What are you going to do?" Polly asked with a sigh, relaxing her stance and unfolding her arms. Even Jeanne became a little irritated, as even in sorrow her friend still seemed more beautiful than her. Jeanne knew that she didn't do it intentionally, for there were no boys around, it was merely her Veela blood.

"I am going to annoy my brother so badly that he will wish that I had never returned." Jeanne confessed, a smile brightening her fine features. She was beautiful, and she was dangerous, and she loved herself. Despite all that though, there was a mind behind the vanity and beauty, and that was what made her so dangerous. Polly quirked a smile, not able to fully appreciate the hilariousness of the situation, simply because she had never met her friend's brother.

"I meant career wise." She said, unable to keep the dry tone out of her voice. Jeanne didn't quite know what to reply back to that. She had never really thought of anything further than getting out of France and back home to England. She curled a lock of her hair round her finger and shrugged.

"I really don't know Polly. That bridge will be crossed when I reach it. What of you?" She asked in return. She had some vague idea of avenues that Polly might want to pursue, but the other girl had always been mute on the subject of what was going to happen to her after Beauxbatons.

Polly sighed and pressed her lips together tightly. She was far from amused so Jeanne assumed that her friend didn't have any particularly good or happy news for her.

"Whatever my husband decides. I am to be married Jeanne. You are lucky that you managed to escape betrothal." Polly replied, her voice sharp and her words clipped. Jeanne felt a wave of sympathy wash over her. With the situation that had just been exposed, she was feeling far too much pity to be annoyed at her friend for speaking to her in such a manner. Polly's words did bring up an issue that Jeanne had never really given much thought to but more than likely should have. Her brother had been betrothed since he had been a young boy, and yet she had not. Jeanne had never questioned it, but she was beginning to consider it now.

"Have you even met the man?" Jeanne asked, her voice an octave higher than normal. Polly knew her well enough to know that Jeanne would never offer her sympathies or any words of comfort. She was not the sort of person to do that, but under no circumstances did it mean that she did not feel it. Polly sighed and shook her head.

"I do not even know his name Jean. All he is to me now is Monsieur Delacour." Polly confessed, the reality of her sad situation finally dawning on her. Jeanne repressed a shudder and perfectly manicured hand on her friend's shoulder. She squeezed a little and Polly smiled ever so slightly in return.

"I guess this is it then." Polly said heavily, removing herself from her friend's grasp. She had caught sight of her parents by the gates. Jeanne followed her friends gaze and had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She did not need to try guess which of the many parents waiting patiently for their daughters to return to them were Polly's. There was man looking incredibly plain standing next to his wife, a creature of sheer beauty.

"What is your mother's name? You never did say." Jeanne asked, thinking of several possibilities going through her mind.

"Father calls her Aphrodite, after the Goddess of Beauty." Polly remarked, holding her hand out and waving once to grab the attention of her parents. Jeanne watched as they separated themselves from the crowd, her father sliding his way through, the people parting as her mother practically glided towards them. She was so graceful, and Jeanne had to admit she was rather jealous of that.

"That does not surprise me in the least." Jeanne muttered, her well practised aristocrats smile on her face as Polly's parents reached them.

"Bonjour Madame et Monsieur. Je suis Jeanne, et je suis amis avec votre Appolina fille." Jeanne said, curtseying politely as she had been taught, feeling it would be more prudent to address Polly's mother first rather than her father. Traditionally that would not be the way. Polly's mother however was not exactly human for she was Veela. It would do well to make her feel as though she were more important and senior than her husband. Her mother inclined her head in Jeanne's direction. Her father took hold of Jeanne's hand and gently pressed a quick kiss to it.

"Enchante Mademoiselle." He stated before gesturing for Polly to follow him as he turned and left. Polly embraced Jeanne in a tight hug.

"I hope your fate is better than mine." She whispered in Jeanne's ear before she let go. Jeanne watched as her friend followed after her father, her mother walking beside her. She stood there and watched until the passed the gates and apparated back to wherever their home was. Although they had promised one and other that they would remain friends, Jeanne knew deep in her heart that she had more than likely seen the last of her best and only real friend.

With a heavy sigh Jeanne headed towards the gates of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. She had not expected either of her parents to make an appearance which is why she was not disappointed when she passed through the gates, without even a glance back at the Academy she had attended for the past seven years, and did not find them there. She did wonder to herself as she negotiated her way through the crowd of parents and students, as to how she was going to get home.

"You took an awfully long time Sister." Jeanne whirled round when she heard the one voice in all the world that she had longed to hear.

"Lucius!" She could not help exclaiming as she came face to face with her brother. She reached her hand out to touch his arm, a smile on her lips. They would never openly embrace each other, not in public. They were of the aristocracy after all, and they had an image to maintain. This was the closest they would ever get to, in public, affection for each other.

"It is time you returned home." Lucius said, a small but genuine smile on his face as he placed his free hand on her free arm. Jeanne nodded her head.

"I have been waiting long enough." She said with conviction just before she felt that familiar feeling of side along apparation.


End file.
